Guns of Grace
by Tiara Peterson
Summary: Sequel to Lullabies & Nightmares. Prostitutes are turning up dead, their bodies raped and brutalized. Is it a copycat to a serial killer from 1888? OFC / Dean & Sarah Blake / Sam. Rated M for borderline explicit sexual situation(s), mild language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

The heavenly aroma of dinner assaults me as soon as I step foot into the house. Sarah is singing softly as she keeps a watchful eye on the boiling pot of pasta while a chicken alfredo sauce simmers on the back burner. My son is occupied with some toys in his playpen and doesn't notice me at first. He lifts his bright green eyes and lets loose a squeal of pure joy. The toys forgotten, he works to pull himself up on wobbly legs. Pudgy fingers reach for me and bury in my hair as I hold him close, breathing him in with a deep pull.

"Hello, my love. Mommy missed you today." I hate leaving him but as a working mother, it's what I have to do. At least I don't have to pay the outrageous day care fees, I have a friend that I trust with my life that watches over him every day.

Sarah had given a gasp at the high pitched squeal. Dark brown eyes meet mine as she whirls. "That's the most noise he's made all day!"

I can't help but laugh. "He was saving it for me. Weren't you?" I smother him in kisses and nuzzle into the spot I know is the most ticklish. Johnathan's body bucks as he giggles and tries to wriggle away from me. I straighten from the tickle fest and prop him on my hip, accepting the cold beer handed to me. "Have you heard from them?"

Sarah shakes her head and turns her attention to the almost done dinner. "Not since last night. Sam said they should be headed back by tomorrow morning." She grunts softly and a hand falls to her swollen stomach.

I come up beside her and place my hand where hers just was. "Busy day?"

"You could say that. She must know her daddy's coming home soon." Sarah was 5 months pregnant, the test showed positive the week after Johnathan was born.

The pressure of the baby moving under my palm brought a smile to my face. "You know, if it's getting to be too much with Johnny, we can figure something else out."

The burners are turned off and steam billows from the sink as Sarah strains the pasta. "Don't you dare threaten me, Ren. You know I love watching him."

She turns and stares hard at me, the steam had colored her cheeks pink. "I know you do, hon. Just promise me that you aren't overdoing it."

"I promise, mom." She shoots a wink at me before pulling the garlic bread from the oven.

We sit down to eat and share how our days went. Mine full of death and blood while hers was full of tears and laughter. Johnathan was trying to crawl but he never made it very far before spilling over in a tangle of limbs and toys.

I swallowed a particularly delicious chunk of chicken. "Hey, you hear anything from Bobby or Jody?"

Sarah sits back and places her hands on her stomach, full of food and a growing Winchester. "Jody called last week, wanted to see when they could come out."

"Hmmm." Something was tugging at me but I couldn't put a finger on it.

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. When they were out last month they seemed a little…."

"Like they were hiding something?"

"YES! At least I'm not the only one. Dean says that nothing's going on."

Sarah rolls her eyes and reaches down to pick up some discarded cheeri-o's. Johnathan smiles wide and shoves them in his mouth. "What does he know?"

I all but lick my plate clean and when Johnathan starts to fuss, Sarah moves to grab him. "Uh uh, you go and put your feet up."

"But-"

"But nothing, Sarah. You cooked and watched my son all day, the least I can do is clean up." Sarah opens her mouth with a sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue but I silence her with a hand. "Sarah Blake, you march up those stairs and take a bath or something. I mean it."

Sarah narrows her eyes at me as she pushes away from the table and plants a kiss on the soft head of my son. She whispers against his cheek before her lips capture the plump skin and a loud smack all but echoes in the room. We share a smile before she mock salutes me and does her best impression of a soldier marching out of the room and up the stairs.

The kitchen can wait for now, my son however, cannot. I wash his hands and face before I slip the bib off and wrap him in my arms. I get the bath ready and lower his naked form into the warm bubbly water full of his favorite bath toys. He squeals and laughs and splashes water all over the floor but I don't complain. I thought I would never have a child of my own and here I was, a mother to a rambunctious and smart 5 month old son.

After a fit of tears while I washed his hair, we emerge from the bathroom. He was wrapped in a fluffy grey towel with a corner shaped like an elephant head and me in clothes that would need a proper washing. We end the evening in the rocking chair. I hold a bottle for him, his hands wrap around mine while we rock and I sing softly. Dean had told me his mother used to sing Hey Jude when he was a baby so naturally, I started singing it to Johnathan.

He empties the bottle so I move him into a curled up position against my chest, we're both comfortable and he's easy to burp. I nestle my nose against the top of his head before I press a kiss against his forehead. He's tired and fighting sleep as I sing against his cheek. It's not long before he burps and gives in, his body grows limp.

I watch him sleep and wonder just how I got so lucky. Yes, his dad was gone more than I wanted him to be but I wouldn't trade any of it. With one final kiss to his temple, I set him in his crib and creep out of the room. Before I lumber down the stairs, I poke my head in the room Sarah and Sam share. Sarah is curled on her side with a hand resting on the side her baby navigates towards. Long raven hair is spread all around her like a halo. I tip toe to the bed and reach behind Sarah and work the yellow and white plaid sheet and matching comforter over her. With a sigh, she nestles against her pillow.

I yawn loudly just as I close her door and listen in fear that I've woken someone from their sleep. When no sounds of protest are heard, I make my way down and back into the kitchen. There isn't a lot to clean up since it was only Sarah and me that ate, two Tupperware containers are full of leftovers and the dishes are placed into the dishwasher.

The sounds of water running follow me onto the back porch where I watch the beast that protects my land, my house and my family; Mithra. Her eyes meet mine and she gives a howl that would set any normal person's nerves on end, but not mine. I rush out to the edge of the property that she cannot cross and wrap my arms around her neck.

I breathe her in and smile against her thick fur at the pressure of her head against my back. "I missed you too. Where've you been, huh?"

Mithra huffs against my back. I pull away but leave my fingers threaded through her fur. Her eyes are wide and sad. "Everything ok?"

Her giant head twitches to the left, no. I chew at my bottom lip as worry fills me. Last year, there had been only a handful of beasts left. Now, it was Mithra, Ember and Dusk. Ember had joined us several months ago but Dusk had a harder time getting away from his master. "He didn't make it, did he?"

As if on cue, Ember appeared behind Mithra and whined low in her throat. I held my hand out of her, she wasn't as open with me as Mithra was. Her muzzle pushes up against my open palm and I squeeze gently before my hand travels between her eyes and up behind her ear. Mithra scoots out of the way and I envelope as much of the beast in my arms as I can. She smelled of blood and dirt, it must have been one hell of a fight.

When Ember was done allowing me to comfort her, she stands tall and turns her attention to the forest, it was time for them to eat. Mithra's tongue just about wrapped around my hand as she said her goodbye and the ground shook as they took off through the trees. Deep down I pray that nothing would happen to them, I'm not sure how I would handle it if they were to die.

It was late when I emerged from the shower. I work a towel through my hair before I comb the snarls free. I slide into a pair of black panties and one of Dean's t-shirts that he said needed to be washed. It smells just like him; sweat, gunpowder, oil and that underlying scent of masculinity that only he smelled like.

As if on cue, my phone starts to ring. I answer it quickly but tried not to sound too anxious. "Hey you."

A deep throated chuckle greets me. "Hey yourself. It's not too late is it?"

I push the blankets back and made sure the baby monitor was turned on. "It's never too late, you know that."

"There have been times that it's been too late."

"You know the rule, Winchester, you call me every night." I can picture the smile that's pulling at his lips when he sighs softly. "When are you coming home?"

"We just wrapped up a couple of hours ago. Just need some sleep and we should have Cedar Rapids in our rearview by morning."

Any worry I had about the case was dissolved almost instantly. "Everything go ok?"

"Just your normal salt and burn." I sigh softly as I close my eyes, they're suddenly very heavy. "You sound tired, babe."

"I am. It's been a long couple of days." I manage to stifle a yawn that takes me by surprise.

Dean laughs softly. "How's Johnny?"

"He misses his daddy."

"I miss him, too. Did you give him a kiss for me?"

"I always do." I curl into my pillow and feel myself start to drift off.

"Get some sleep, babe. I love you."

"I love you, too. Come home."

"I'll be there before you know it."

"You better be." With another I love you and a goodnight said, I disconnect the call and fall into a dream of Dean.


	2. Chapter 2

Ian was waiting for me the next morning, a large caramel white chocolate mocha billowed steam as it sat on my desk. He turns from the wall where I had hung pictures of my newly extended family. "Morning, Doc."

We press a kiss to each other's cheeks as I pass. "Good morning. You're here awfully early, Irish."

He cringes at the nickname. Dean had started it and whether he wanted it to or not, it sort of stuck. "What? I can't stop by and see my favorite pathologist?" His accented speech was thick with sarcasm and something else. Dread?

I blow on the hot drink and look up at him through my lashes. "We've known each other how long and you think I don't know when you want something?"

Ian shrugs as a hand dives through his raven hair. Strands of grey have started coloring his sideburns. "They found another body this morning."

I sigh heavily and fall back against my chair, his gift of coffee almost forgotten. I know the answer but I ask anyway as I rub at the bridge of my nose. "Where?"

"Same place as the other two, close to the white chapel off Berner Street."

I watch Ian sit down across from me, mirroring my position. "How many is that now?"

He nods at the file that was placed under my coffee. "This is number three. We need to know if we're dealing with a serial."

"I'll make her a priority."

"Thanks. Can you call me once you know anything? They're breathing down my neck and they want an answer, like yesterday."

I can't help but roll my eyes. No one seems to care about prostitutes until they turn up dead, throats slashed and their stomachs torn apart. "I'll call you, ok?" Little else is said before Ian leaves, another promise that I'll call him and he's out the door.

I shake my head as I read over the police report and look over the pictures provided to me by CSU. Three dead prostitutes in the last two months. I shudder as I finish my coffee, though it does little to warm me up. "I swear, if this is anything other than a crazy person, I'll shoot someone." Part of me is joking but the other part can't handle another supernatural occurrence in my town.

A gurney and two paramedics are waiting for me when I finally emerge from my office. I sign the stack of papers before they relinquish the dead woman to me and it takes me almost an hour to get everything ready for the standard autopsy.

With my face shield firmly in place, I snap on the recorder. I pick up the camera for all documentation and snap pictures as I talk. "It is March 1, 2014 at 10:12am, Dr. Hatfield performing the autopsy at the urgent request from Detective McShane. Victim has been identified as Elizabeth Stride, aged 25. She was discovered this morning next to the chapel off Berner Street. Body temp places TOD somewhere between 8pm and 12am last night. Her throat has been slashed, depth of the cut indicates the blade was drawn left to right. The cut is deep, severed the left side jugular. Almost all of her fingernails are torn and fingertips bruised, indicating she struggled with her attacker. Post-mortem bruising is typical with self-defense. No other external life threatening injuries to the body. Cause of death appears to be exsanguination."

The camera is placed to the side before I reach over to the table where my tools lie. I'm just about to slide the blade just under her left shoulder blade when Ian barges in. My stomach drops when he speaks. "They found another one, it's about five minutes out."

Several hours pass before I've completed the autopsies and I retreat to my office where I have a full bottle of Johnny Walker Blue waiting for me in my bottom drawer. Normally, I don't drink until I'm off the clock but the brutality I've seen overrides my sense of duty.

The second body I dissected was much worse than the first. Where the only wound on Elizabeth was the slashed throat, Catherine Eddowes bore much more. Along with her throat severed, Catherine's stomach was all but ripped apart. Her left kidney and most of her uterus had been removed with little injury to the remaining tissue. I had made a note that the assailant could have a medical background.

Ian had wanted to know if they had a serial on their hands. After reviewing the first two case files, I have an answer for him. He answers mid-ring. "McShane."

I sigh heavily after draining my glass. "I have your answer."

"I'll be right there."

Not even two minutes later, Ian rushes into my office and crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes are wide as he stares at me, begging me to dive head first into the conversation I really don't want to have. "I'm confirming your suspicions of a serial killer."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Johnny sighs heavily against me as we rock. Our usual nighttime ritual is anything but as my mind wanders. It seems a serial killer was killing the women of my town and it was intruding upon my mommy and son bonding time. I gaze down into his face and can't help but smile when I find his father's eyes staring up at me. "I'm sorry baby, mommy's distracted, huh?"

He snuggles against my chest as a yawn rips out of him. I pat his butt as I work to clear the memory of torn flesh and missing organs from my mind. Focusing on my son and the time we have together, I start to sing and lull him into the sleep he desperately craves. Dazzling green eyes flutter closed and his body goes limp in my arms. I pull in a deep breathe of freshly washed baby before I tuck him in.

I plop down next to Sarah on the couch and rest my head on her shoulder. She rests her cheek on my head and I can feel her face pull into a smile. "Rough day?"

"Yeah, you could say that." The files from all four victims are stacked on the table at my feet. Ian asked if I could go over them again, see if there was something I could find that would help solve the case before another woman was found dead.

Sarah taps the stack with her bare foot. "You rarely bring your work home."

"Special request. Four women have been found in the last two months."

Sarah sits up suddenly. "Oh no! Do they have any idea who did it?"

I shake my head against her shoulder. "Not one. There's no DNA, no evidence, nothing. Just the same MO. Female prostitute, 25 – 30, usually sexually assaulted, throat slashed and the stomach cut open." I probably shouldn't be saying any of this and if it were anyone but Sarah, I probably wouldn't.

Sarah cringes. "People are sick."

My eyes fall to Sarah's stomach where her child has started the nightly routine of somersaults. "You can say that again."

We sit there, watching and feeling the baby until I notice Sarah has fallen asleep. I gently wake her and with a small smile, she lumbers up the stairs. I know why she was really staying up so late, Sam. They were on their way home from a weeklong hunting trip.

I remember feeling that way whenever the brothers left, more so when I was pregnant. The times Dean and Sam went hunting felt like an eternity and every time they came back, we kissed like we hadn't seen each other in years. I sigh at the memories before reality comes crashing down. Four dead women are depending on me to help figure out who mutilated them.


	3. Chapter 3

It's late, much later than it should be when I hear the deep throated rumble of an engine roar up the driveway. I quickly gather the pictures and paperwork and shove them into the correct folders before I basically throw them into my bag. I run out the front door and can't help but grin as I watch the headlights grow larger.

Dean barely gets the key out of the engine before I push off the porch. He grunts as I throw myself against him and bury my face in his neck. His skin is warm against my face and I pull in a deep breath, I didn't realize just how much I missed him.

He wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the ground. His voice is thick against my ear. "I missed you too."

Sam chuckles on his way to the house. "Goodnight, you two."

I have a smart ass comment for him, something about Sarah and their reunion, but my lips are busy against Dean's neck and jaw. There's a moan building in Dean's throat and it vibrates against my neck. "I'm liking this reception."

My lips trail along his jaw and over his chin before they find the scar. "I don't like when you're gone."

Strong hands spread over the small of my back as he leans against the Impala, the driver door still wide open. "I don't like it either."

Our lips connect and it's as if everything around us disappears. We get lost in the way the other feels, tastes and sounds. Hands roam as I wrap my legs around his waist and feel just how much he missed me. The deep ache I have only for him flares to life.

With his hand buried in my hair, he pulls his mouth away. "We should probably go inside if you want to continue this reunion."

I push out my kiss swollen bottom lip as my fingers wander through the short strands of hair on the back of his neck. "Awww, do we have to?"

With one large hand, he pats my bottom before cupping it firmly. "I don't know about you, but I don't really think Mithra and Ember want a show."

I follow his line of sight and see the beasts staring at us, wide eyed. He was right. Maybe not about how the beasts feel but about anyone being around during something so intimate, something meant for only us. My legs untangle from his hips and I feel all the hardness of him against me as I slide down, my God how I've missed him.

Dean grabs his duffel and follows me into the house. I know the main reason he follows me and it has something to do with the extra sway in my hips. I hear the locks engage as I wander slowly up to our room. I'm barely over the threshold when I feel large hands on my hips. He bends down, lavishing my neck with his mouth. Hands pull hard and I'm suddenly curled against him, my shoulders against his chest and my lower back against his groin. The hardness of him strains against his jeans and he moans at the friction my body against his causes.

I turn in his grip and capture his lips in a kiss that lets him know just how much he was missed. Our clothes seem to melt away before we fall onto the bed. He's gentle as he enters me, taking his time and lowering his head to watch as I envelop him. Green eyes darken as muscles stretch and twitch. With a deep moan, I grab his face and force my mouth against his. It doesn't take long before our hunger sets the pace and we're driving each other to the brink of release.

Dean pulls me against him as he rolls to the side. A steel grip holds me firm as we kiss, long and thorough. When we part, it's only because oxygen is needed. "I might have to go away more often if I'm gonna get this reception."

His eyes sparkle as I swat his arm. "Don't you dare threaten me, Winchester!"

Goosebumps spread like wildfire as his hand roams over my skin. He chuckles low in his throat. "I'm kidding and you know it."

"You better be. It's hard enough when you're gone for a week at a time."

Dean kisses me between the eyes. "I know. Sam and I were talking on the way home."

"Oh? Anything important?"

"We decided to try and keep things close to home. What with Johnathan and Sarah being pregnant, I know it would ease all our minds if we didn't travel across the country."

"It would ease my mind if you stayed home, not close to home."

Dean sighs, his head rests on my neck while his thumb brushes along my jaw. "Babe, you know –"

I can't help it, my eyes roll at his rebuttal. "Yeah, trust me, I know."

Another sigh falls from Dean before his lips press firmly against mine. We've had this fight a million and one times. I don't know why but I had thought that with Johnny, Dean would want to be home with his family all the time. Dean's kiss becomes harder and more insistent, he hates this fight and just wants me to see things his way but I don't think I ever will. I give in to his demanding lips and let them have their way with mine, not that I really want to stop him.

I'm breathless when Dean pulls away. "Can we not fight about it tonight? I just want to fall asleep with my girl and see my son in the morning."

Damn, it's like he always knows what to say to make my knees turn to jelly. "That sounds like a good idea."

He reaches behind me for the thin sheet and quilt, smiling when I tangle my legs with his. The heat of our bodies mingle with my exhaustion and I know I'm going to fall asleep before him. Sure enough, his heart against my cheek pulls me into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

The sounds of his son babbling softly to himself pulls Dean from a deep sleep. Serenity was still pressed firmly against him, but she must have rolled over since her back was now against his chest. He moves slowly and carefully, pulling on his previously discarded clothing before the bedroom door is pulled closed.

Dean slides his finger along the volume of the monitor in his son's room before he peers over the railing. Giant green eyes meet Dean's half a heartbeat before giggles and excited shrieks fill the small room. "Shhh shhh shhh, you're gonna wake everyone up."

Johnathan pulls himself up against the railing and reaches for his father, chubby fingers latch onto the black shirt as he buries his face in Dean's neck. Dean chuckles deeply as he holds his excited son. "I missed you too, bub. You take care of your mom like we talked?"

As if on cue, Johnathan leans back, a smile pulls at his toothless mouth. "Of course you did."

Dean exchanges the soaked diaper and moose pajamas for a onesie, a bib for the constant drool and clean diaper. The pair drift downstairs where a bottle is prepared before they hunker down in the corner of the couch. While Johnathan works at his bottle, Dean just watches his son. Every move and noise he makes, Dean never knew that this kind of happiness existed. He would fight to the death to protect his family.

Sam's bare feet against the hardwood floor pull at Dean's attention. Sam nods in greeting while he yawns. "Morning." He disappears into the kitchen and it's not long before the smell of coffee filters through the rooms. Sam hands a large cup to his brother and places a loud kiss against Johnathan's head before he sits down across from the duo.

Johnathan giggles at the sight of his uncle and the almost empty bottle is clearly forgotten. Dean puts the bottle on the table next to his cup. His large hand raps against his son's back, urging out a burp. "What're you doing up?"

Sam's large shoulder pops up. "You know how it goes."

"Yeah. How's Sarah feeling?"

The corner of Sam's mouth pulls up. "Like she wants this baby out."

"I don't blame her, I mean look at you."

The brothers share a laugh as Johnathan interrupts their conversation with a loud belch. "And he is 100% yours, bro." Sam puts down his cup and holds his arms out for the excited child.

Dean passes off the bundle, picking up his own cup on the way back. "Just wait until he gets some teeth, get some real food in him."

Sam's brows bunch together when someone knocks on the front door, loudly. Dean shrugs as he heads to the door. He peers out the side window before the locks are disengaged. "Good morning, Irish."

Ian forces a smile but shakes his head, that damn nickname. "Good morning, Dean. How was the hunt?"

Dean steps to the side, allowing Ian access. "Typical salt and burn. What brings you by so early?"

Ian and Sam exchange silent greetings while Johnathan tugs at Sam's hair and babbles incoherently. "I asked Ren to look over the case files for a serial. I wondered if she got anywhere with them."

Dean shakes his head as he shrugs. "She didn't say anything last night. I can get her if you want."

"Please? We haven't seen anything like this and I don't blame people for wanting answers."

Sam nods at Dean. "I got him."

Dean pushes up the stairs and lowers himself onto the bed. Ren had grabbed the pillow Dean used and buried her face in it. He runs a long finger along her arm and her bare neck until he threads his fingers through her hair. She stirs against the pillow. "No…. go away."

Dean watches as she reaches for the blanket and tries to pull it over her head. "Hon, it's time to wake up."

She snuggles deeper into the pillow with a mix of a yawn and a moan. "But I don't wanna."

Dean chuckles softly as he presses his lips to the back of her head. "We have company."

Serenity lifts her head and catches Dean by surprise with a kiss. Her lips brush against his when she talks. "Is it important or do we have some time?"

He moans softly against the fullness of her lips. "Oh babe, if only. It's Ian."

Her bottom lip presses firm against his as she visibly pouts. She leans against Dean's hand before she settles back against her elbows. "Fine but you're mine later."

Dean's body betrays his intentions and he struggles to keep himself in check. The sheet clings to her bare form and his hands itch to reach out and touch her, every inch of her begs to be touched. He clears his throat as he stands. She knows what she's doing. Hell, she winks at him as he backs out of the room. He rests his forehead against the closed door and blows out a harsh breath.

Ian's eyes meet Dean's as he enters the room. "She's on her way."

Serenity emerges wearing a pair of well worn jeans complete with holes in the knees and paint smudges on her thighs and butt. A tattered black concert tee that smells like Dean was thrown on in haste. She runs her fingers through her hair and ties it in a knot as she wanders down the stairs, bare feet pad softly against the wood.

She eyes the files in Ian's grip. "Morning."

Ian pushes up from the chair. "Sorry to come by so early."

"Don't worry about it, Ian. What've you got?"

Serenity accepts the files and flips them open. More details and information of the victims and possible eye witnesses fill the first one while high definition glossy pictures fill the rest. Four dead hookers and extensive wounds add up to a lot of pictures.

Dean settles next to her and picks up a few of the pictures. "This is what you've been doing while I'm gone? Looks... fun."

Ian all but growls. "This is not something to joke about, Dean. These are... were people."

"Chill, man, I know that."

"Boys, boys, please. Ian, I didn't really get a chance to read over the files last night." She meets Dean's gaze and the tension is suddenly thick.

Ian clears his throat. "I can see that. They're brining someone in to help, another pathologist."

Angry eyes fly to Ian. "What?"

"It's not that they doubt you..."

"No, I get that but who is this guy?"

Ian points at the last file. "Name's Jackson Melville, from Scotland."

All eyes rise to Ian. "Scotland?"

"He's been stateside for a couple years. He uh - actually just applied for a job."

"In my lab?"

Ian holds his hands up in defense. "This is above my head, Ren. There's been a lot of bodies lately and you're swamped..."

Dean watches as Ren bristles, visibly angry and almost shaking. He places a large hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you go in and meet with this Jack guy? We can hold the fort down, ok?"

Ren turns her steely gaze to Dean and softens immediately under his gaze. "You sure? You just got back."

Everyone in the room knew what the underlying tone in her voice meant. Dean licks his lips and places his hand against her face, trailing his thumb under her bottom lip. "We'll have plenty of time for that later, babe. Go and help them get this son of a bitch."


	5. Chapter 5

After a hug and a kiss from my bouncing son and Dean, I climb in my car and follow Ian to the hospital. Something has been bothering me about this whole thing and it wasn't just the fact that we were dealing with a serial killer. I couldn't put my finger on it and I'm sure it would come to me later but that didn't mean I stopped thinking about it. And now this new guy? Just what was going on?

Ian beat me to the pathology lab and was leaning against my locked office door. "You're mad."

I arch a brow at him as he slides out of the way. "Not mad, irritated. Something isn't right."

The detective in front of me fishes the phone from his pocket. "Nothing is right about this, Ren."

"Besides the obvious, Ian. I just... I can't put my finger on it."

Large eyes stare hard at me. "Don't you dare say it."

I chew on the inside of my cheek and shrug. "You trust me, right?"

"You know I do."

"So if I say something is wrong, besides the obvious -"

"Can we just meet with Jack?"

I sigh harshly. "You want to do this your way, fine. Where is this guy?"

A thick and ragged accent comes from the hall. "This guy, is right here."

My eyes fall on the source and I find him average in everything. Height, weight and looks. Nothing stands out about this guy but that doesn't stop the shiver that shoots down my spine. I hold my hand out but he declines with a small wave.

"Thanks for coming in. You come highly recommended." Ian gets the same wave from Jackson.

"Sorry, I'm a bit of a germophobe. So, Dr. Hatfield, it's you and me, huh?"

His dark eyes meet mine and my mouth is dry like cotton. "It appears that way. Let me make myself clear on something, this is my lab. You do things my way or you're gone. Just because they brought you in, doesn't mean I can't kick you out."

A playful smile tugs at his lips. "You've staked your territory, alpha. I'm just here to help out and maybe get a job out of it."

Copies of the files I have at home and Ian handed me earlier, are handed to Jackson. He doesn't look at them. Instead, he slides them under his arm and he touches his forehead with two fingers. "Nice to meet you both. I'll get out of your hair and let you know my findings. I want to schedule a time to see the bodies, too." With another smile and a nod of his head, Jackson breezes out of the room.

I stare wide eyed until I hear the latch of the door at the end of the hall. "Are you kidding me?"

Ian shrugs and shakes his head. "Play nice."

I hold my hands up and feign offense. "This is me, you're talking to."

He chuckles low in his throat and backs to the door. "I know exactly who I'm talking to. Can you please take a serious look over those files and get back to me?" Ian is out the door with a playful wink just as I throw a balled up scrap of paper in the empty space he left.

I gather several files from my desk before I head out. The sneaking suspicion that something isn't kosher with the new pathologist, weighs heavy on my mind.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Dean watches the to cars pull down the long drive before he feels the presence of his brother and son behind him. Sam has a photo in his large hand while he's balancing Johnathan on his hip. "This is some pretty brutal stuff."

"Yeah, this guy sure has a way with a blade."

The trio wander into the kitchen after Dean picks up the discarded files. While Dean starts putting together a hasbrown, sausage, bacon and egg scramble for everyone, Sam flips through the files and Johnathan rolls around in his play pen. Sam huffs softly but it catches Dean's attention. "What is it?"

Sam runs a large hand through his hair. "I don't know. There's just something about this that... I don't know."

Dean slides a plate full of food across the table before taking a seat. He pulls a stack of photos and flips through them while he shovels food into his mouth. A note of familiarity brushes against Dean but he can't put his finger on it.

Sam watches the flash in his brother's eyes. "You know what I'm talking about?"

"Why does this seem so familiar?" The large coffee cup is drained empty with a loud gulp.

"Again I say, I don't know."

Dean spins in his seat and grabs a pen and paper from a drawer. "What're the names and locations they found the bodies?"

Sam clears his throat as he locates the papers. "Mary Ann Nichols was located in an area called Buck's Row behind the chapel. Annie Chapman in a backyard on Hanbury Street. Elizabeth Stride, off of Derner Street behind the chapel and Catherine Eddowes was found off of Mitre Square."

Dean mutters under his breath while the pen travels across the page. "Buck's Row, Hanbury Street, Mitre Square, chapel... chapel chapel chapel. What is the color of the chapel?"

"Ummmm, white? Yeah, it's white. Why?"

Dean's brows furrow together in confusion as his fingers work through his hair. "Ugh I don't know."

Sam gives Dean some more information from the files and they scour over the high definition pictures. Sam leans back against the chair. "I swear, it's on the tip of my tongue."

Dean opens his mouth but is interrupted by Serenity all but storming in the room, irritation flows off her in waves. She pours a cup of coffee and huffs angrily. Johnathan babbles happily at the sight of his mother but her attention is obviously elsewhere.

Dean stands in front of Serenity and places his hands on her hips. He dips his head to catch meet her gaze. "Hey, you ok?"

Serenity shrugs. "I met the new pathologist."

"And?"

"He creeps me out." She shudders involuntarily in Dean's grip.

He can't hide the chuckle that spills out. "That can't be the only reason you're upset."

The cup is set down so she can rest her hands on the large shoulders in front of her. "Yeah, you're right. Something is bugging me about this whole thing."

"You too?" Sam's voice is thick over the mouthful of food.

Serenity peeks around Dean. "What do you mean, you too?"

Full lips press against her cheek before Dean turns and picks up the pad with his writing. "There is something familiar about all of this, we just can't figure out what it is."

The papers flip over as she reads over Dean's notes. Large, blue eyes scour over every word and random doodle created by the black ink. One note that read Whitechapel prostitutes murdered. Serenity gasps as she thrusts the notepad against Dean's chest.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The words Whitechapel prostitutes murdered scream at me in the bold black ink. "Oh my God. I can't believe I missed this." I push past Dean and down the hall into the large study. I feel as Dean follows and watches as my fingers roam over the spines of books until there's a large brown leather bound book placed on the desk.

"What? What is going on?" Sam pulls to a stop behind his older brother.

My eyes scan over the many words until I find the ones I was looking for. Geez, they practically jump off the page. I mutter the words under my breath as I read and when the last three words are uttered, I hang my head and groan. "No, no, no."

Dean stands next to me and pushes my hand off the page with his. "What is it?"

Without even looking, I point at the three words at the end of the page and I hear him pull in a surprised breath. "No, that can't be. It's been like 125 years or something."

"What am I missing?"

Dean holds the book up for his younger brother, his forefinger taps the page where my mind started to spin.

Sam scoffs loudly. "You're kidding me."

I lift my head and meet Sam's doubting eyes. "I don't think so, Sam. Everything points to Jack the Ripper."


	6. Chapter 6

Sarah is next to me at the kitchen table, the large book from the study is open before us. Her large brown eyes scour the many pages while I try and feed my son. Johnathan wants nothing to do with the yellow squash that I'm trying to airplane into his mouth. "Come on bub, you gotta eat something."

Yellow mush pushes out between his lips and he goes giddy with laughter. With a frustrated sigh, I put a cover on the uneaten food and store it in the fridge. My back up, a box of cheerio's, is pulled from the cupboard and met with happy squeals as they fall onto the table. "I think we're going to single handedly drive the stock of general mills through the roof."

Sarah chuckles softly behind me. "At least he's putting on weight. The doctor can't complain too much."

"Oh they'll always find something to complain about. Speaking of doctor's, when's your next appointment?"

Sarah rolls her eyes as she leans back. "They'll always find something to complain about."

I match her position and with a nod of approval, I rest my hand against her stomach. The baby pushes against my hand almost immediately. "What in the world do they have to complain about with you?"

The expectant mother shrugs with a sigh. "First it was I wasn't gaining enough weight now it looks like I'm gaining too much weight. The baby is measuring two weeks ahead."

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Have they seen the father? I mean, really."

We share a smile as the unborn child tumbles and turns in Sarah's belly. "I don't know what I got myself into!"

I can't help it, I burst out laughing. "I don't know either, honey."

Sam pokes his head in and arches a thick brow. "What's got you two in such a good mood?"

Sarah goes red and has to cover her mouth before another laugh tumbles out. "You're ears burning, Sammy?" I give the engorged stomach a small pat and match Sam's arched brow.

The tallest Winchester narrows his eyes at the three of us, Johnathan had started to squeal in delight when he heard us girls laughing. He lumbers over and presses a loud kiss against Sarah's head. "How you feeling, babe?"

Sarah grunts as her hand flies to her stomach. "This child of yours is bound and determined to hurt me."

Sam kneels next to the Sarah and pushes her hand away before placing his large hand against the rambunctious unborn child. The size of her stomach seems to diminish against the length of his fingers. "Shhhhh shhhhh. Now what did we talk about, huh? You be nice to your mama, ok?"

A sigh of relief escapes between Sarah's lips and her body visibly relaxes. "Why can't I do that?"

She runs her hand through Sam's thick hair as he bends and presses a kiss where his hand was. "The Winchester charm, what can I say." He pushes up off the floor and heads back the way he came, studying over old Jack the ripper case files with his brother.

I stifle a laugh and throw a cheerio at him. "Is it like that every time?"

"Every time he says something or touches my stomach, she instantly calms."

"Daddy's girl already."

"Just like her mama."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Sam chuckles as the cheerio bounces off his shoulder. Dean arches a brow at his brother. "What?"

"I tamed the rowdy child."

A small smile pulls at Dean's lips. "She hates it when you do that."

"Not as much as she loves it."

Dean leans back and sighs softly. "You ready for it?"

"For what?"

"Being a dad."

Sam drops into the chair across from Dean, his long fingers pick up the previously discarded book. "I think so. I mean you're never 100% prepared are you? It helps that Johnny is only 5 months old. Everything we've helped out with and seen will be relatively fresh by the time Sarah goes into labor."

Dean remembers the first time he changed a diaper, Johnny peed all over his shirt before the new father could cover the geyser. "Trust me, things will happen that you couldn't have predicted."

The brothers get back to work and scour every scrap of paper they can find over the next couple of hours before they stand and groan loudly. While Sam goes in search of something to cook for dinner, Dean follows the smell of Ren's lilac shampoo. It was later than he thought and he found her in their son's room. A whole day wasted over books when he could have, should have spent it with his family.

Her soft voice carried the words his mother used to sing, words that calmed him even to this day. He snuck behind the rocking chair and caught her eye. She stops rocking so he can bend and kiss his son goodnight. The smell of his son mingles with fresh baby powder as Dean pulls in a deep breath. The pair slip out of the room with minimal noise after Ren covers their son with his mint green blanket.

Dean keeps his voice low as they drift down the stairs. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, I could eat." There was no missing the tone in her voice, she was hungry but not just for food.

Dean turns as his feet leave the final step. With her on the step he just vacated, they're the same height. Out of habit, he wraps his arms around her waist and she does the same around his neck, her fingers play in the small hairs on the back of his neck. Their noses touch briefly before their lips follow suit. At first the kiss is feather soft, almost undetectable until Dean captures Serenity's bottom lip between his.

She melts against him with a sigh, opening her mouth to his almost urgent request. The sweetness of the lemonade she had earlier clings to her tongue. Everything around them seems to fade away as they get lost in the sound and taste and feel of each other. Dean feels the roundness of her breast at his fingertips when someone clears their throat.

"Uh, you guys want dinner? I was gonna throw some steaks on the grill."

Serenity rests her forehead against Dean's shoulder while he answers his brother. "Be right there." Dean's voice is thick and ragged with desire for something other than food.

It's not until Sam's footsteps fade into the kitchen before Serenity lifts her head. Crystal blue eyes meet Dean's and they sparkle with embarrassment. "He's seen a lot worse, trust me."

"Still doesn't mean I'm not embarrassed by it."

Large hands push down her side and around to cup her butt. Dean pulls her hard against him so there's no doubt she can feel every inch of him. "I'm not."

A soft moan spills from her lips before she bites her bottom lip, preventing a larger one from filling the room. "Dean…"

He watches as her eyes flutter closed and the way she's gripping onto his shoulders tells him she enjoys the rush of arousal flowing through her. Dean grinds himself against her and is rewarded by her head falling back. The bare skin of her neck begs to be kissed, licked and nibbled on and he does just that. Her leg lifts with the assistance of his hand as it sweeps along her thigh, brushing every so quickly against the heat at her core.

Her voice is as thick as his was moments ago as she grows breathless. "Dean, we should uh… we should stop."

The scruff of his chin against her neck makes her shudder against him. "Or we could continue this upstairs." He nips gently at her earlobe.

She's quiet, save for the borderline panting, for several rapid heartbeats before she answers. "As promising as this sounds and feels," her own hips press hard against his, "I'm famished."

Her lips crash against his for a hard, almost harsh kiss, before she pushes past him. With a loud grunt, he reaches into his tight jeans and rearranges himself. "Son of a bitch." He hisses at the hardness in his hand and finds himself wishing no one else was in the house, he would've taken her against the wall without another thought.


	7. Chapter 7

Following a deep grunt, Dean and I fall to the bed in a sweaty mess of limbs, bodies still connected in the most intimate of ways. Muscles twitch and ache as the high of our orgasm pulses through us. He holds me tight against his chest as I straddle his waist, long fingers splay over my damp back and his heart hammers against my cheek.

When I can breathe somewhat normally, I lift my head and watch as his lips purse and open as he tries to regulate his breathing. I rest my hands against his chest and separate our slick chests. A deep groan rumbles from beneath me as our bodies shift. Large hands grip my hips and dark green eyes meet mine. "Where you going?"

I cover his hands with mine. "Well in case you hadn't noticed, I'm all sweaty."

The man beneath me arches a brow playfully. He bites his bottom lip as he uses me for support, sitting up so we're chest to chest again. Moans bubble out from both of us this time. "Oh believe me, I noticed." His tongue dances along my collar bone and a content sigh brushes against my damp skin.

I can't help it, I answer his sigh and arch my back. It always amazes me how quick he is to recover from sex. His hips rock beneath mine and in that moment, I feel him swell inside, slowly, as if he has control over that type of thing. I'll never get over that feeling and God help me if I ever do. I slide my legs from beneath me and wrap them around his waist, pushing him deeper yet. The moan that spills out of us could have woken everyone in the house if Dean hadn't thrust his tongue into my mouth.

The kiss is fast and hard, just like the thrusts of our hips. While the previous round had been slow and thorough, this was anything but. This time it is all about the most basic of human desires. Also, it seems to be a race to see who comes first. We're both panting as our mouths disengage. It's rare and also extremely hot when we watch each other and tonight is one of those times. Our mouths hang open as we climb the mountain of release. His twitches become more insistent as hands dig deep into my lower back, grunting my name and I know he'll get there before me, but not too far ahead. I reach behind me and grab at the tight mound of flesh below me, massaging and kneading the ultra-sensitive skin as I begin to pulse around him.

It's an effort but we maintain eye contact as he spills into me. His warmth is the final push I needed to throw myself over the edge. Our chests heave to the point that it almost hurts to breathe and I fall limp against him. All of our nerves are in overdrive and every movement we make causes one of us to twitch in one way or another.

His chest rumbles when he finally finds his voice. "If we keep this up, Sam and Sarah are going to move out."

I grab at the back of his neck as I lift my head from his shoulder. "Noise cancelling headphones. I'll buy them some for Christmas."

Dean laughs low in his throat as he taps my bottom. "You would, too."

I push my bottom lip out. "I don't wanna."

The thumb of his free hand runs over my extended lip. "If you want that shower, you better get going. Otherwise, I'm likely to take you again and again."

As much as I hate to admit it, he is right, I had called Ian earlier and said I would take another look at all the bodies. I nip at his thumb as I work my legs from behind him and pull away. We both groan deeply as he falls away and I feel suddenly empty. I make sure that I shower alone, otherwise we'll never get to sleep. By the time he joins me in bed, we're both exhausted and fall asleep with him curled around my back.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Four bodies lay bare under their sheets in the old operating room. I don't know what I'm looking for as I examine the victims but I clear my mind. I talked aloud as I worked, speaking clearly into the microphone that was attached to my ear.

"Mary's throat was severed by two cuts while the lower part of the abdomen was partly ripped open by a deep, jagged wound. There are several other incisions on the abdomen by what appeared to be caused by the same knife. Annie Chapman's throat was severed by two cuts just like Mary Ann Nichols. Her abdomen was slashed entirely open and her uterus has been removed prior to discovery of the body. Elizabeth Stride bears one clear-cut incision which severed the main artery on the left side of the neck. There is an absence of mutilations to the abdomen. Brass isn't sure this victim was killed by the same assailant. Catherine Eddowes throat was severed and the abdomen was ripped open by a long, deep, jagged wound. The left kidney and the major part of the uterus has also been removed."

I sigh heavily as I cover all the bodies. More samples had been taken while I spoke and other notations of bruises and what looked to be defensive wounds were documented. "Each woman has torn fingernails and damage to the pelvic wall indicating they were raped. No DNA has been found so more than likely, an object was used. Maybe the assailant is impotent?"

"That's an interesting perspective."

A thick voice behind me caused me to gasp in surprise. I whirl around and find that Dr. Melville is standing almost directly behind me. "God, you scared me."

A small smile spreads across his lips. "I'm sorry, that was not my intent."

I back away slowly, forcing myself to smile in response. "No, it's ok. I get focused on the task at hand. What can I help you with?"

He reaches out for a pair of gloves, pulling them on with a snap. "I hope you don't mind, me stopping by like this. I was hoping I could get a look at the bodies. Part of the investigation and all."

I don't know why but his accented voice grates on me. I feel like I could throw up all over the room. The nausea subsides but hot on its heels is irritation. "Ian didn't call me and say the meeting was set up."

Melville shrugs subtly and I watch as his chocolate brown eyes move languidly over Mary's cloth covered body. "I didn't phone him. I figured it was ok if I just drop by. Is that a problem?" He raises his dark eyes to me.

Every fiber in my being wants to stomp my foot like a five year old and scream that yes, it was a problem. I swallow the bile in my throat and wave my hand to the four gurneys. "Is there anything that you need, Melville?"

He smiles wide and I swear that every hair on my body stands. "I think I can handle a few dead hookers."

**xxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Ian, I swear there is something wrong with that man." I seethe as I pace in my office. Dr. Melville had left moments ago. The first thing I wanted to do was bathe in scalding hot water but I opted for calling Ian instead.

An accent that didn't grate on me brushed against my ear. "I'm sorry, Ren but there's nothing I can do. This is a favor to the mayor."

"Oh screw Mayor Dobkins." I can't hide the disdain as it coats my words.

Ian chuckles in surprise. "I ran a background check on this guy. He's clean as a whistle."

"That doesn't mean I don't want to shove a red hot poker in his head every time I see him." I swallow the Johnny Walker Blue hungrily and rinse the glass in the sink of the small bathroom.

"Ren, you said you would play nice."

"Yeah, well, things change." The discovery of a possible explanation about the bodies runs through my mind. "Ian, I need to tell you something."

I can tell Ian pulls the phone away from his mouth before he groans. His voice is deeper than before when he returns, laced with irritation? "What is it?"

I know how this is going to sound. He'll probably want to admit me to the local sanitarium. "Promise you're not going to freak out."

"No."

"Come on, Ian."

"Just tell me what you found."

You would think after all he's seen, after all we've been through, that he would believe the next three words I'm about to utter. I blow out a breath away from the phone, God knows I don't want to deafen him with the harsh exhale. "Jack the ripper."

Ian laughs, loud and long and I can't help but feel the slightest bit hurt. "You're kidding, right? Is it April Fool's?"

I rub at my temple with my thumb. "God help me, no, I don't think so."

His laughter fades and I hear the front door of the precinct slam closed. "You care to explain to me how a serial from 1888 is killing hookers today? It's 2014 for Christ sake."

"I don't know. Sam and Dean are digging through every bit of history they can get their hands on."

"So, there's no proof."

"No, not yet. I just have this feeling-"

"I can't go on a feeling you got. You better bring me something rock solid, Ren."

My mouth works like a fish washed up on shore. "Y-yeah. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ian." Before he can utter another syllable, I disconnect the call and fight the urge to throw it through the windowed wall of my office.


	8. Chapter 8

"Honestly? It's been a week and we're no closer to figuring this out." I fall onto the couch with an exhausted huff.

Johnathan babbles as his father walks around the room. "You want me to call Bobby? He might have some insight."

I rub at my eyes as a yawn finds its way out. "No, I called him yesterday. They're on the way. Sorry, I forgot to tell you."

The cushion shifts as father and son join me. "You're tired and overworked."

"Thank you Captain Obvious."

"And crabby."

I turn to look at the pair and fall into four crystal green eyes. "I'm sorry." Johnathan holds out pudgy hands and grunts anxiously, his legs pushing against Dean's stomach. I hold my son against my chest and sigh into his shoulder. "Mommy misses you too, bub."

Dean drapes his arm around me and squeezes my shoulder. "We'll get this guy."

Johnathan had grabbed my ID badge from work and was busily soaking it in drool. "And in the meantime? We just stand by while women are brutally murdered?"

"Babe." His tone is gentle but stern. Death is part of the life we lead. We can't save them all even though we try desperately to do so.

"Yeah, I know."

Dean chews on his bottom lip. "Has Melville found anything that we could use?"

I roll my eyes and sigh exaggeratedly. "Melville. I haven't seen much of him since last week. If he filled out a report, he must have given it to Ian."

"That doesn't strike you as... odd?"

"The whole thing strikes me as odd, Dean."

Dean blows out a breath. We both watch our son as he tries to devour my access badge. "Hey, where're Sarah and Sam?"

I nestle into the side of Dean. "Doctor appointment. Her glucose level was a little high the other day."

"Ugh, I hate needles."

I roll my head to look up at him with wide eyes. "You. You hate needles? You, who has sliced your own arms open more times than I can count on both hands, hate needles."

"So?"

"You have a tattoo, Dean." I try not to let the small smile pull at my lips.

"That's totally different."

I can't help it, I laugh at him and I laugh hard. "How is it different? They're needles."

He actually looks hurt when I laugh at him. It doesn't help that Johnathan joins in, his squeals echo in the room. "There's a HUGE difference."

"Oh, well ok then Mr. I'm scared of needles."

"I didn't say I was scared -"

I roll my eyes and lift my head just enough to silence his next words. I capture his bottom lip between my teeth, nipping gently. He moans deep in his throat as his hand lifts to my neck, the pad of his thumb brushes along my jaw as he moves to deepen the kiss. I can taste the beer on his tongue and the only thing keeping me from crawling into Dean's lap is the fact that my son is currently in mine.

Dean rubs his nose against mine at the end of our kiss. "Brat."

"Spoilsport."

Johnathan lets loose another squeal at the sound of a car pulling up the drive. We both push off the couch and go outside to greet the visitors I was expecting.

Bobby's faded blue car shifts into park and I can his mile wide smile before he gets out of the car. Jody stretches out slowly. Her back had been giving her a bit of trouble since she had been kidnapped and tortured last year.

We join the pair by the open trunk, sharing hugs and kisses on the cheek. Jody happily takes my son away from me. "Aunty Jody missed you!"

I can't help but laugh at the outburst of giggles as Jody tickles the crook of Johnathan's neck. I nudge Bobby in the arm. "Thanks for coming out."

"It's no problem, darlin'. You know that." He pulls me against him in a giant hug. He may look older than he is and the arthritis in his knees might try to keep him down and out when it rains but that man has an iron grip.

I bury my face in his shoulder and sigh at the comfort his hug brings me. "I missed you old man."

"Missed you too, kid." Bobby wasn't much for showing affection. But when it came to Jody, Sam, Sarah, Dean, me and our son, the stubborn facade slipped.

"Let's get you guys inside and you can tell us what you've been up to."

Everyone, except Jody, grabs a large bag from the trunk and piles into the house. While Bobby and Jody find their room and unpack, I lay my overly tired son down in his crib after a bottle and a quick lullaby.

Dean stops me at the bottom of the steps. "Something going on with those two?"

"Bobby and Jody? Yeah, I think so."

The very happy couple had wandered out the back door after grabbing a bottle of beer.

I cross my arms over my stomach. "Alright you two, spill it."

Jody jumped slightly at the sound of my voice. "What do you mean?"

She has the nerve to try and look innocent but we aren't buying it. "You're keeping something from us."

They exchange a look and hell, even a wink. For the first time in... years, I notice that a flush has crept into Bobby's cheeks. Jody lifts her left hand and something on her fourth finger glints in the sun. Dean and I look at them, each other and back to the couple.

Jody and I giggle excitedly as I all but lunge at her. Bobby and Dean share a tight hug, clapping their hands roughly against each other's backs.

Bobby is the first to say anything after the round of congratulations. "We have other news."

Dean rests his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"No, son, nothing bad. We are selling the salvage lot and house. Thought we'd take you up on that offer to move here." He looks almost nervous, like I would rescind my previous offer.

"Are you kidding? That's awesome!" I throw myself into Bobby's arms again and giggle into the crook of his neck. "You stinkers. Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Jody has to stand on tip toe in order to get a proper hug from Dean. "There were some loose ends we needed to tie up."

Dean smiled knowingly. "Bodies?"

"That and all the hunting paraphernalia that might hinder the sale." We all nod, knowing how it might look to the outside world.

Jody yawns suddenly. "You guys mind if I lie down?"

"Go for it. There's plenty of time to discuss the wedding details later!" The two of us wink at each other before she places a tender kiss against Bobby's stubbled cheek.

Once Jody has disappeared into the house, Dean claps Bobby on the shoulder. "It's about time you asked her to marry you."

For the first time sine Karen, he looked genuinely happy and he wore it well. He shook his head and turned his tone serious. "So this case you're on. What can we do?"

I give a disapproving snort. "Figure you'd change the subject."

He tries to hide a smile but I see it just as he turns his head away. Dean and I follow him as he walks towards the house. "Show me what you got."


End file.
